No Longer Sweet Shire
by RunningGlades
Summary: Sequel to AKISS. Bent to move on after Frodo departs, Mayline settles in Buckland and falls comfortably into a new life. But when at last he returns, her heart is torn in two, and knowing which half to follow becomes more than what it seems.
1. A Necesarry Adventure

**Ah the new NLSS! Review as you go along, I wanna know your thoughts, good or bad! :) Also, more notes on this have been updated to my profile, so check that out too when you get the chance. Thanks!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>A Necessary Adventure<br>_

* * *

><p>Not long after Frodo left the Shire did Mayline tie loose ends and finish giving a good amount of what she owned away and packed the rest. Although she had known Sam would be leaving her also, it wasn't until later she realized Merry and Pippin had also departed, and somehow become a part of whatever had befallen Frodo.<p>

_I don't know how to say it, but, I'm sure I love you Mayline._

She sighed heavily as the words echoed in her mind again. Her vision blurred as she carried her last crate of belongings out the front door of her aunt's hole and loaded it onto the small wagon waiting just outside. A small grey pony was attached and the front of its long, white mane covered its eyes on either side.

Her aunt and sister stood side by side and at last Mayline turned to them. Her heart was as heavy as it had ever been, but at least, this was the last goodbye.

Walking forward Mayline fell into a group embrace.

"Are you sure you must go?" her sister pleaded.

Mayline sighed. "I need too. It's about time I strike out on my own Della; it'll do some good for me. But I'll write so expect a lot of letters."

Della nodded, although she was no more satisfied.

The three ended their embrace and Mayline's aunt put her hands on either side of her face. She was getting on in her years, and never failed to treat her as though she were still very young.

"Come back if ever you change your mind," she said. "The road is tough and won't be all you expect."

After one last hug to each of them and a few more words, Mayline turned and headed to the empty seat beside the hobbit tween at the front of the wagon.

"Buckleberry Ferry?" he asked, double-checking his orders.

Mayline nodded slowly. With of a click of his tongue the pony started forward and Mayline twisted around. Her aunt and sister remained as they were and waved to her, but it wasn't long before the road dipped, and they were lost from sight.

Mayline turned back around, and for a while her gaze drifted as Hobbiton went by slowly. At most spots she seemed to have a memory with Frodo or the group, and all too soon it became too much.

Feeling as though she might burst and change her mind so soon, Mayline looked at the tween. Conversation might distract her, at least to the ends of Hobbiton.

"He's a grand pony," she said lightly, glancing at grey. "Grey ones have always been my favorite."

The tween nodded. "Mine too. His name is Teldae, and my Amra is fond of him."

Mayline raised her eyebrows. "Your Amra?"

"You know, my girl."

The wagon had begun to round a corner, and set back at the far end was Bag End. Mayline closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Although relatives of Frodo were now living there, she still considered it barren.

_Do you believe in promises?_

Her chest tightened.

_I want you to promise me you'll always stay in Shire._

"Miss?"

Mayline blinked. She looked over. The hobbit tween was staring at her. "Can you tell me something?"

She nodded. "I suppose so. Depends on what it is."

"What's going on with Bag End now? No one has any good answers, but—isn't it true every Baggins's that lives there just up and disappears?"

The tween was suddenly excited, but Mayline sat frozen.

"It seems so," she at last managed. "But… there's not much I know about it."

She looked the other way, her gaze vainly searching for something to focus on. _It's true… right when they settle into the palm of your hand… they're gone._

Neither Mayline nor the tween said much after that, and right before dusk, the wagon finally reached Buckleberry Ferry.

…

During the ferry ride down stream, Mayline was happy it had taken most of the day to reach Buckleberry. Now that it was night, lanterns with small flickering flames sat here and there along either side of the shore, and Mayline felt as though she was truly passing on to something new.

A light fog had settled across the surface of the water and she inhaled the cool night air. The ferry guide paddled quietly, and Mayline idly wondered if Frodo had taken the same route. From Bag End, the ferry was the quickest way out of the Shire, but she didn't contemplate it for too long.

…_I'm sure I love you, Mayline. _

Another wagon waited at the river bank when at last they reached another dock. After Mayline loaded her things, it began down the road and toward one of the small towns of Buckland. Again she sat in the space beside the driver, saying nothing, but as always thinking and feeling much.

Her plan was to stay the night at an inn before continuing her journey on to wherever first began to feel like a new home. Although she had a few towns in mind to visit, she decided it was best to live this new phase as spontaneously as she could afford.

…_to have my own adventure and disappear. _

When they had almost reached town, Mayline noticed a small flicker a little ways down the road. She squinted and as the wagon neared it, she realized it came from a lantern hanging above a sign, which read: Crickhollow.

It was a small, lonely smial tucked back into the trees, and during her last days in the Shire, it had been rumored Frodo left to live there. Obviously it wasn't true. But even so…

"Stop!"

Her sudden outburst startled the driver. He quickly reined the pony to a halt Mayline jumped down from her seat, her feet hitting the dirt as she jogged around and came to a stop in front of the wooden gate.

Just ahead sat an eerie and vacant Crickhollow. She swallowed and pushed open the gate, shaming herself for letting a wild idea get the best of her. As she approached both her sense of caution and curiosity heightened. But finally at the front door, Mayline hesitated before doing anything else.

Slowly, her hand slipped around the handle. Frodo would not be inside, she knew. But to her surprise, the door was not locked, and moved back easily at her slight push.

…

The earth of Crickhollow was cool beneath her feet as Mayline moved around the main room and took her things out of crates. She scurried about as she worked to make the place more homely, and although it had been rather radical, she'd decided to move in.

The home was nicer than anything she could hope to afford somewhere else, and given the fact it had sat vacant for quite some time, she didn't think her presence would be a bother.

A small fire burned in the fire place, and after a while she finally settled down in the rocking chair her aunt had gave her. Mayline pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and peered into the flames, her heart already lighter.

Crickhollow, in its own way, was starting to feel like that home-away-from-home she was searching for. Mayline yawned and settled back, her eyes partly closing. It wasn't long before she fell asleep and the fire gradually burned out.


	2. Frodo In Buckland

_Frodo in Buckland_

* * *

><p>A year passed easily enough after that, and not long after Mayline took Crickhollow did she settle into a job and a mindless routine. Nearly every morning she rose to make her way to <em>The Daring Snail<em>, a small Buckland pub where she waitressed, and there she discovered that although different from the Shire, the hobbits of Buckland were no less friendly.

Immediately she had been welcomed into the town, and one more chip on her shoulder fell off.

Aside from work, Mayline filled her time either strolling through the market or taking a long walk back to Buckleberry Ferry, to lie on the bank and doze beneath the last hours of the sun. The war of the world outside Buckland affected her and the other hobbits little, and the detachment from the Doom of the Ring was comforting given her own state of mending.

Even a year later, Frodo's absence still left much of her empty. She liked to imagine a letter would show up from him one day, informing he was on his way to her or requesting that she come to him. But a letter never came, and other chances at love blossomed.

Hobbit-men from the pub, simple and honest, often worked up their courage to ask her out for the evening. But it seemed their efforts were always in vain, because Mayline would turn her eyes and heart aside. She knew it was a naïve hope, but if not a letter, perhaps a certain blue gaze and handsome pale face might turn up in Buckland.

* * *

><p>Pella reached out and grasped Mayline's shoulders before she could disappear back into the kitchen. It was a busy night at The Daring Snail, and the hobbit-men, along with the Big Men, were countless. A band of hobbits were performing in the main area and everyone was dancing.<p>

"Come on, do it!" Pella shouted.

Mayline pulled Pella's hands from her shoulders and stared. "I will not sing on stage!"

Pella was one of the first to befriend her shortly after moving to Buckland, but unfortunately her nagging had become just as worse as the intoxicated costumers.

Pella grinned. "Please? Everyone is having a phenomenal time and you should as well. Besides, they all have too much ale in them to care what you sound like!"

"If you think—"

Mayline didn't get a chance to finish before she was swept away by her arm and into the crowd. She resisted the whole way, but before she knew it Pella had dragged her to a small wooden staircase leading up the side of the stage.

The music of the band so loud practically engulfed any other noise.

"A song won't kill you!" Pella urged. "Now get up there! I've been twice!"

Mayline took a deep breath and glanced around helplessly. There seemed to be no means of escape. To her one side was Pella, to the other the wall of the pub, and directly ahead the stage. A small stool sat empty just ahead of the hobbit band, and her gaze became fixated on it.

"Pella, I'm telling you, I can't—"

Suddenly she stopped, for a hand had fallen lightly on her shoulder. Someone had come up from behind and Mayline turned. In a second her eyes widened, and reality blurred with what might be dream.

There was Frodo.

"Excuse me miss, but if you could step aside I'm awfully late."

Mayline numbly stepped out of his way as he moved around her and up the stairs. An empty stool was to the side of the band and he filled it, immediately beginning to strum an instrument and join in on the music.

Shaking her head, Mayline blinked. It wasn't Frodo, after all, but instead another hobbit who could have passed as his twin. He was a few inches taller, and his brown hair grew over his ears and slightly into his anxious, light blue gaze.

"Well?" Pella said, shaking her shoulder and suddenly bringing her back to reality. "He was pretty cute, wasn't he? Go!"

And with that, she moved behind her and shoved Mayline up onto the stage. She stumbled at the top and nearly fell on her face before regaining some balance. She peered at the crowd—numb again—but it seemed the dancing had taken on a life of its own, and all eyes had fallen from the stage.

Mayline then glanced at the band, and every member was staring at her—including the handsome stranger.

Mayline's cheeks flushed and boldly she approached the stool. Being too finicky to sit she climbed on top and stood. She wobbled for a moment before closing her eyes tight and letting her voice fill the air. The music of the band practically drowned her effort, but Mayline continued. She sang less of a song and instead felt as though an old skin was being shed.

Her feelings over the last year had worked themselves into short lyrics or poetry on the pages of a small notebook she kept, and at last when the music died away, she'd relieved herself of much of a year old pain. When Mayline finally stepped down from stool, her heart was pounding.

Immediately she raced off stage and to Pella, who had remained awaiting for her off to the side of the stage.

"Could you hear me?" Mayline asked, her eyes bright.

"I don't think anyone could," Pella said with a smile. "But I could see it was doing some good for you."

Mayline nodded. Her breathing was quick, but she managed to catch enough to respond. "I can't remember the last time I felt this _alive_."

* * *

><p>Shortly after the pub closed that night, Mayline gathered her cloak and bag before stepping outside the front doors. The cool night air hit her at once, she noticed not a soul roamed the street and every window in the homes across from her had their curtains drawn.<p>

Mayline passed down the stone walkway and onto the road, her steps light and expecting a quiet walk back to Crickhollow. She sang quietly to herself some of the lyrics from her notebook, but she hadn't made if far before she suddenly stopped.

A medium sized wagon sat along the road a short ways from her and the pub. What was more, members of the hobbit band sat quietly on top of hay scattered around in the back.

Three of the five were in quiet conversation while the other sat silently on the tailgate, staring at the ground. Wherever the fifth member had gone they seemed to be waiting on him.

Mayline started walking again, although she no longer sang and her gaze was on the silent hobbit content on the tailgate. A pensive expression clearly market his face, and when she was closer, she realized it was Frodo—or well, the twin. Mayline kept her distance and had almost walked around to the side of the wagon before he lifted his head and looked right at her.

She stopped. There was a silence, and eventually the stranger smiled a little.

"You sang on stage tonight, didn't you?"

His voice was soft, but a hint of excitement was there.

Mayline nodded and felt her cheeks flush. She was tired and messy-haired from a full day's worth of work, but there was nothing she could do about it now. "Tell me you didn't hear anything—I—"

"I picked up a few words here and there. But it sounded like you were sharing something more personal than a song, if you don't mind my assumption."

Mayline shook her head. "No. I guess I was."

She looked to the side. "Are you a Buckland band?"

The stranger shook his head. "No. We'll be here a while, but we're from a small town near the Shire, if you know of the place."

"_So you're leaving me, aren't you?" And at that, more tears came. Mayline wiped them away and waited for the already known answer. _

"_Yes I'm leaving, tonight—I have too." Frodo's face was visibly pained, and he knew not what else to do. "If it means anything at all—I would have stayed here with you, in the Shire, to the end of my days had I been given the choice."_

Mayline blinked. She remembered his question and nodded. "I know of it."

The stranger slid off the tailgate and approached her. "What's your name?"

"Mayline Puddifoot," she said quietly, accepting his hand. He shook hers.

"I'm Bomar of Kicking Juniper. Pleasure to meet you."

Mayline smiled and furrowed a brow. "Kicking Juniper?"

Bomar sighed. "We named our band after the ill-tempered donkey."

He gestured to the front of the wagon. Mayline leaned back and caught a glimpse of the old, worn creature. She laughed and her voice filled the emptiness of the street. Bomar smiled.

"It wasn't my choice. But I'm the youngest band member, so apparently my vote doesn't count."

Mayline shrugged. "It's not so bad."

"Where are you headed? We have room to spare if you're traveling our way."

Hopeful, Mayline jumped at the offer. "I live just a few miles down the road—Crickhollow?"

"Don't know of it, but we're going that way."

Bomar turned and Mayline followed him to the wagon. He reached out his hand to help her onto the tailgate, but she hesitated to take it. For a moment, reality slipped and it seemed as though the hand belonged to someone else.

But at last she took it and he helped up her up before climbing on. The other three hobbits greeted her, and Bomar closely filled the empty space at Mayline's side. Her cheeks grew warm and she said nothing, but thankfully, the fifth band member, Demir, exited The Daring Snail just then.

In his hand was a small brown sack, and Mayline assumed their payment for the evening was in it. Once he boarded the wagon, they set off at once. Neither Mayline nor Bomar said anything until the wagon reached the outskirts of Buckland, and the road ahead was no longer illuminated by lanterns.

For a while she had snuck glances at him, still a bit awestruck by the resemblance.

"Where are you staying?" she asked at last.

Bomar looked over at her. "We managed to find a farmer nice enough to let us stay in his barn," he replied. "We don't exactly have the money to spare for an extended stay at an inn."

Mayline nodded, but then she had a thought. "There are a few empty storage rooms above the Snail. Perhaps I can use my pull—"

"Thank you, but really the barn works all around. We don't mind hay beds, and Juniper is comfortable as well."

"If you insist."

Mayline let her gaze drift down the road and settle on Buckland now small in the distance and somewhat illuminated. She knew they had almost reached Crickhollow.

_If only you were there waiting Frodo… _

Mayline sighed faintly and tilted her head to the stars, remembering the night they had gazed upon them together. It was a slight chance, but perhaps somewhere, she hoped he was also setting his sights above.

"Is this it?"

Some time had passed and Mayline blinked.

"Huh?"

"Is this Crickhollow?"

Mayline leaned forward and spotted a small home tucked back behind a few dark trees. With a smile she nodded.

"It is."

Mayline slid off the tailgate and walked a few steps before turning. She raised her hand and waved.

"It was a pleasure to be in your company, thanks for the ride Bomar!"

He smiled and shrugged. "Don't think of it. Will I catch you again at the Snail tomorrow?"

The wagon had already started off, and he was slowly slipping away.

Mayline nodded. Her heart had started to pound, and the idea of spending more time with the twin was rousing. "Yes! Good night."

She watched until he and the wagon disappeared altogether over the dip of the road. When at last Bomar was gone, she crossed through the gate and disappeared for the rest of the night inside Crickhollow.


	3. A Mendacious Beginning

_A Mendacious Beginning_

* * *

><p>The sky was a pretty grey when Mayline stepped out of Crickhollow the next evening. The world outside was peaceful, but inside, she was in a whirl. Her quick steps carried her all the way to The Daring Snail in record time, and coming through the back door Mayline tossed her cloak and bag aside.<p>

The music of Kicking Juniper was faint but it made the walls shake. Mayline grinned as she raced down the corridor and into the main area, where all the chairs and tables had been pushed aside and again the customers danced.

She spotted Pella on stage, standing on the stool and singing dramatically. Mayline weaved her way through the crowd and began taking orders, all the while her gaze straying to the band. Bomar was indeed present, but it seemed he had yet to take notice of her. After quickly scurrying to the kitchen to place her orders, Mayline returned to the main area just as the band was alternating songs.

The crowd paused in their dancing and shouted for the music to continue. Two of the band members left the stage, and the other three conversed quickly before again beating their instruments. Mayline blinked and looked around from the back of the room.

Bomar and another band member had left the stage, but as to where they had gone, she couldn't tell. For a moment she was at a loss until a light tap fell on her shoulder. Mayline turned and smiled knowingly.

Frodo stood behind her, the corner of his mouth turned in a half smile. She blinked. No, it was Bomar.

"You're an easy lass to find Mayline Puddifoot," he said above the music. "I'm on break for a while—care to dance?"

Without a word Mayline nodded vigorously and Bomar took her hand. He led her into the center of the chaos, and there they joined a revolving circle of couples. For a while they danced and occasionally switched partners before returning to each other.

It seemed the entire time Mayline was unable to stop laughing, and when the band began to alternate songs again, she and Bomar stopped to catch their breath. Mayline was against him and one of her arms was wrapped around his neck.

"You're a worthy dance partner Miss Puddifoot," Bomar teased, his arm around her.

She smirked. "And I might say so about you, Mr.—"

Her mind blanked at a sudden realization, and Bomar's mouth formed a half smile.

"It's Baggins."

Stepping out of his hold, Mayline stared as though he had hit her. "_Baggins_?"

Bomar nodded. "Admittedly I'm not one of the true Bagginses from the Shire, if you know of them. I'm a _Sackville-_Baggins."

The music was picking up again and so were the dancers, but Mayline was still frozen. Bomar stepped forward and put his arm around her. His eyebrows furrowed as he noted the distant look in her eye.

"Are you alright?"

Mayline nodded. "Yes," she said shortly.

"You sure?"

Snapping out of her surprise, Mayline suddenly came to and nodded. Her arms laced around his neck again, and they rejoined the circle of hobbits.

* * *

><p>For the next three weeks, Mayline met and danced with Bomar every night at the Snail. It was the part of the evening she always looked forward to, and her heart was quickly beginning to fill the last of its holes, or so it seemed. She had Frodo back again, and although this version was different, she was no less determined to accept it.<p>

More than a year had passed since she last felt the touch of those soft lips and peered into that one of kind blue gaze. But now, with Bomar… it was all coming back.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" Bomar's words were calm, but couldn't quite hide the hope behind them.

Mayline tightened the fastening of her cloak. "Is there something wrong with the wagon?"

The Snail had closed no more than half hour ago, and the help and entertainment had finally gathered their things and prepared to leave. The rest of Kicking Juniper was walking out the door, and only Bomar and Mayline remained beside the stage.

He was wearing a dark cloak like she, and his instrument was in a small, handmade case strapped at his side.

"No, nothing is wrong with the wagon…" he admitted slowly, "but I thought we might want go to Crickhollow alone."

Mayline raised a brow. A small smile formed on her mouth.

"Oh. Well, if you want too—"

"—it doesn't matter, if you would rather—"

A silence fell, and they both looked away.

"I think it would be a fine idea if you walked me to Crickhollow," Mayline said quietly at length.

Bomar's hand was on the back of his neck, and his gaze flashed to her from the floor.

"Then let's go."

…

The stars had come out to rest over Buckland and the night air was pleasantly cool. Mayline and Bomar stepped outside the Snail, and when they left the stone walkway their feet fell upon the packed dirt of the road. Lanterns illuminated most of their way as they continued on.

Mayline listened as Bomar told the story of how he once beat a reigning champion at a game of knights and pawns, and the crowd surrounding them reveled with him in the triumph. By the time he finished, they had reached the outskirts of Buckland.

"I think you will be my hero until the end of my days, dear Bomar," Mayline said with a laugh.

"It was just a game, but I simply did what I had too. What was right and honest by all of hobbit-kind."

"Luck was on your side."

"That and a few mugs of ale. Half of the moves I made were not wisely influenced."

Mayline grinned and a silence settled. The road around them was now dark, and trees lined the way. For a while Mayline resisted the urge to take his hand, figuring if he wanted too, he would take hers. But being so close to what she had once lost made it almost unbearable to wait.

When at last they reached Crickhollow, the lantern above the small sign served as their light. Bomar stopped beside her in front of the gate, and his eyes fell on the dark home. Mayline noticed his thoughtful expression.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"I'm wondering… why you would choose to live out here, in the dark away from Buckland."

Mayline's gaze fell to the dirt. The answer wasn't easy.

"It's cheap to live outside of town," she said at last, unconvincingly.

Bomar didn't press and when Mayline looked up, Frodo was in front of her. His blue gaze was gleaming from the light of the lantern, and his brown hair had fallen almost into his eyes.

She sighed heavily.

_Wake up, he's not really there…_

Bomar stepped closer and she blinked. His sudden movement brought her back.

"But there's something else I've been wondering, also."

"What would that be?"

"You're a good lass, Mayline. It's easy to spend time with you, and my other band mates have grown fond of having you around. I…"

He faltered, but in that moment she knew his intentions. A smile turned the corner of her mouth.

"Yes?"

"…Would you be my lass?"

She nodded. "I most certainly will."

Frodo grinned and said nothing. Mayline fell into his embrace as though she were falling into soft sheets and he kissed her, sweet and simple, before departing. As she watched Bomar leave and half in a dream, Mayline decided fate was favoring her again, and would always led back to those Bagginses.


	4. Her Notebook & Sudden News

_Her Notebook & Sudden News_

* * *

><p>Not more than a month passed before Mayline and Bomar were in full bloom. Because the band was doing well at the Snail and the owner was pleased with the crowds, Bomar and his crew stayed in Buckland longer than expected, and he and Mayline stole whatever time they could to run off.<p>

They acted as though they were tweens again. They carved their own trails in the forests outside town and dozed together on the bank of the Buckleberry, sharing stories and ignoring any outside cares. At the end of each day after saying their long goodnights, Mayline retired to a room in the back of Crickhollow and poured into her notebook.

She had brought with her from the Shire and since her relationship with Bomar, the contents had changed from grief filled lyrics and poetry to fully described accounts of her day and of course, his comparison to Frodo.

Her life had finally found a smooth path to walk upon, but not all was as easy-going as Buckland. Had she known of the recent events brewing in the Shire, every bit would have shattered like glass.

* * *

><p>In the market on a cool, blue sky afternoon, Mayline wandered up and down a row of carts selling cheap jewelry and clothing. Despite the fact almost everything offered for sale was no more grand than <em>mathom<em>, she was often impressed by some of the items that managed to find their way to Buckland.

At one cart Mayline stopped, having nearly passed it before something caught her eye.

A rack of different broaches, hair pieces and necklaces gleamed beneath the sun. With a slight smile she reached out and picked up a small hairpiece, its spine lined with fragments of red gems. On impulse, she swept back a side of her hair and pushed it in.

Not a strand fell away.

"What do you think?"

Immediately she turned. Bomar had suddenly reappeared behind her after wandering off. His formerly faded brown vest was gone and replaced by one of a brilliant gray. Three black buttons held it together in the middle. Mayline blinked.

"You look dashing, Bomar. What's the occasion?"

He grinned, and his eyes widened. He took Mayline's hands in his known and suddenly found it hard to stand still. "Kicking Juniper is no longer just pub entertainment. Demir has secured us a real party to play at, outside in a pasture beneath the stars." He paused for impact before adding, "And not only is it going to pay, but it's going to pay big."

Mayline grinned and threw her arms around his neck. "That's incredible! The vest will certainly do."

"I thought so. I'm afraid none of my usual hand-me-downs will cut it this time. We're all buying new clothing to hopefully hide we've only ever had pub jobs."

For the first time noticed the comb in her hair. "Do you like that? Please dear Mayline, let it be my treat and wear it to the party."

Absently Mayline reached up and touched it. "When is it?"

"Two nights from now, although we'll need to leave tomorrow to settle into the new place we're staying and set up."

"The party isn't in Buckland?" Mayline raised her eyebrows, surprised.

Bomar shook his head. "No, the Shire."

Her heart seemed to stop and she blinked.

"Apparently the whole place has a reason to celebrate," Bomar continued enthusiastically, "You're still able to make it, aren't you?"

Mayline nodded. "Of course. The Shire is beautiful and I'd love to see it again."

"You've been there before, haven't you?"

Mayline nodded again. _Been there_ was quite the understatement, but for now, would do. Mayline let go of him and Bomar approached the cart to pay for her comb. Afterward, she took his hand and they left the market.

* * *

><p>The next night, Mayline scurried about her room in Crickhollow and packed what she needed for the trip. Her leather travel bag was nearly stuffed, and one of the last things she slipped in was her notebook.<p>

Although she knew she was over preparing, she packed enough for a week. She figured it safe to assume their plans could end up being unpredictable, and even if Bomar and the others wanted to leave the Shire after one night… she might want to remain behind, if only for a short while.

Although she wanted to believe the celebration in the Shire might have something to do with Frodo and the other's return, she decided not to bet too heavily on it. In any case, her aunt and sister still lived there, and it would do some good to visit them.

Not long after she finished packing did Mayline hear a knock on the front door of Crickhollow. Knowing exactly who waited upon her, she bounded to the door and opened it with a smile.

When he saw her Bomar smiled back. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and tightened her grip on the handle of her travel bag. "Yes, let's go."

Bomar reached out and took her luggage. At the weight of it he raised a brow. "Did you tell me you had plans to stay a month or was I not paying attention?"

Mayline smiled. "Well even if you guys don't stick around, I think I might. I have kin in the Shire after all."

Bomar nodded once, curious but again, not pressing. He carried her leather bag out the door and Mayline followed him, locking up before setting down the path.

…

Beneath a star covered sky Bomar and Mayline took up their usual seat at the tailgate of the wagon. For the much of the ride Mayline leaned against him, her head on his shoulder and eyes closed. With every minute the Shire was slowly drawing closer, and Mayline fell asleep thinking about it. Bomar had also fallen into a doze, and when they reached the dock at Buckleberry Ferry, he started to rouse.

Blinking, he looked down at Mayline and saw her peacefully asleep, her arm woven around his. He smiled at the sight and patted her cheek.

"Wake up, you. We're at Buckleberry."

At length Mayline stirred and opened her eyes. "Buckleberry?"

"Halfway to the Shire."

Hopping off the cart, Bomar reached out and offered support as she slid down. Groggily, Mayline stood to the side as he grabbed his and her luggage.

"Who decided to travel at night anyway?" she asked bluntly.

Bomar yawned. "All of ours, I guess—there's plenty to do tomorrow before the party. We're going to need the whole day."

They walked to the end of the dock with the rest of the band and boarded the small ferry waiting in the water. Among the luggage, there wasn't enough room to sit, and Mayline took to leaning against Bomar again.

He didn't mind however and rested his arm around her, yawning. He could have used a little of shuteye himself, but as it was he decided to stay awake and support her.

"You're so warm." Mayline's words were muffled as she sleepily wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hm?"

His mouth was beside her ear. Mayline fell into the first real blur of reality and dream and forgot whether it was Frodo or Bomar she had her arms around. But the more she sank into the familiar warmth, the more Frodo's memory blotted out all else.

…_I love you, Mayline. _

She heard his words as clear as if he had really spoke them.

"I love you."

Frodo's arm tightened around her and Mayline became completely lost to the unconscious then, both reality and dreams left far behind.


	5. Sam & Merry

**Hey! Before you read this chapter, PLEASE go back and re-read the others :) Much has significantly changed, and I more than insist /urge/beg you do so. ****Thank you**** for sticking around if you were a reader of the old NLSS, and lemme know what you think of the new one. I'm dying for feedback on this :) Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Sam &amp; Merry<em>

* * *

><p>The next morning dawned with orange and yellow streaks low in the sky. The sun, in all her majesty, was just peaking above the east woodland of the Shire as Frodo Baggins sat outside Bag End, taking it all in. He sat in a chair of weaved twigs and branches, a cloak draped over his back and shoulders to protect against the early morning chill.<p>

For a second he closed his eyes and inhaled; savoring a Shire sunrise he had felt most certain within the last year of his life he would never see again. The fate of Middle-earth was now at ease, and because much had happened, much that was once inside him was now gone.

The round door of Bag End opened and Samwise stepped out, a small tray balanced on one hand as he closed the door. He walked over and filled a second empty chair beside Frodo's, his spirits still cheery despite the doom that lay no more than a week behind them.

"Your tea Mr. Frodo," he said quietly. "Leaves straight from Rivendell, you'll be pleased to know. Should help keep you warm this morning."

Frodo smiled a little and took one of the two small cups. "Thank you Sam. But look, did you ever think you might see another Shire sunrise?"

Sam blinked and followed Frodo's gaze to the eastern woodland. He placed a hand on his knee and sighed.

"I have a feeling you've said this to me before, yesterday morning and the one before that, too."

Frodo shrugged. "I suppose I have brought it up every morning since our return. But I can't help it. For too long we were beneath black skies."

He brought the small tea cup to his mouth and tasted the warm remedy from Rivendell. It was glorious in his mouth until it passed down his throat, and he was thankful Bilbo had sent it. As he finished the rest, Frodo's eyes passed to a certain green meadow. From Bag End he could see just a corner of it, but it was there a party of twisted fate had been thrown, and he'd had to leave one thing behind.

One girl. His Mayline.

Two days ago Frodo had returned to the Shire and his first night he spent looking for her. He was tired from the journey back but he didn't let it hinder him, he pressed on—however by the time he encountered a string of hobbits who knew of her and informed she was no longer in the Shire, his heart sank, and at last he returned to Bag End.

He hadn't left the old home of Bilbo since.

"Think you'll finally be comin' out tonight?" Sam suddenly asked.

Frodo blinked and broke from his thoughts.

"What Sam?"

"That party Merry and Pippin are putting on—think you'll be joinin' in the celebrations?"

Frodo set the empty tea cup back down on the tray Sam was still holding. His gaze drifted to the side.

"I don't know. I'm not much in the mood for celebrations, if you want the truth. The Ring is gone, Sam, but I can feel the weight of the chain as though it were still around my neck. I expect it will be a while before that goes away… and the energy I used to have comes back."

Sam nodded, although inside he was struggling not to protest. He would love to see Frodo go out that evening and do some good for himself, but the look in his eye that had lingered since the day they left Mount Doom always silenced his arguments, and he decided to let Frodo do what he thought was best.

"I hate thinkin' about you up here all alone when we're down at the party," Sam at last admitted. "If you prefer Mr. Frodo, I could—"

"No. Go to the party and have fun Sam. I'll be fine on my own. I need to start writing."

Frodo rose from his chair then and headed for the round door. Sam watched as he opened it and passed through. He sighed and finally picked up his own cup of tea. He knew of Frodo's failed conquest to find Mayline, and he also knew that had he found her, he would be attending the party, and his old self would be back again.

* * *

><p>Around noon that day, Mayline rose from the bed of the inn she, Bomar and the rest of the band had arrived at the night before. The room was just big enough to fit all six beds, three on each side just a little ways apart.<p>

Quietly she pushed her covers aside and touched her feet to the floor. Bomar was fast asleep in the bed beside hers, and Mayline slowly pushed back his covers and tucked herself beneath them. She cuddled up against his chest.

"Wake up, you."

Her whisper roused him. Bomar opened his eyes a little, and the corner of his mouth turned up.

"Is it time to rise already?"

Mayline nodded. "You said we would need the whole day to prepare. It's already noon."

Bomar yawned and rolled onto his back. He peered around the room at the rest of his band mates, still fast asleep.

"I suppose we should get up then," he said, rolling back to his side. "But let me catch five more minutes of sleep while you wake them."

He closed his eyes and Mayline poked his shoulder, hard.

"Don't even think about it. I have my own agenda for the day, besides helping out."

And at that, she pushed back the covers and got out of the bed. Bomar made a grab for the sheets but Mayline pulled them to a floor. He yawned and climbed out of bed, defeated.

…

After leaving the inn that morning, Mayline made a trip to her aunt and sister's hole while Bomar and the band left for a pasture just outside the main of Hobbiton. It was there the party would be thrown that night, and Mayline promised she would be back soon to help.

Her aunt and sister were both shocked and delighted to see her when she knocked on the door of their hole, and Mayline fell into their embraces. It was wonderful to see them, and for an hour or so they sat inside sipping tea, munching and talking.

Her aunt and sister already knew of her relationship with Bomar from the letters she sent, and Mayline hoped they were planning to attend the party that night.

"I'd love for you two to come," she urged. "Not to mention you'd be able to meet Bomar for the first time."

Her aunt shrugged. "I can't speak for Della but I think I'll stay in for the night. Perhaps before you leave you can bring Bomar by."

Mayline nodded, and her attention turned to her sister. Della smiled and got up from her chair, plopping beside her.

"Of course I'll go with you, Mayline," she said excitedly, taking her hands. "After all this bash is going to be like none other. Apparently some infamous hobbits have returned and the party is for their honor."

Mayline blinked. "What hobbits?"

Della shrugged. "I guess we'll find out tonight—not much gossip has gone around about it."

And at that, Mayline's aunt changed the subject. But during the rest of the time she spent visiting, a constant and terrifying hope bloomed in the back of her mind: she just might know who the honorable hobbits were.

…

An hour or so before sunset, Mayline scurried about the market of Hobbiton. With a list in hand of the last things needed for the preparation of the party, she scoured a row of stands that had considerably dwindled in number from the ones she remembered.

Only a little more than a year ago the markets of the Shire were long and plentiful, but now seemed somewhat diminished by recent effects of the outside world. As she searched for what she needed, she eavesdropped more than a few times and caught word about something called the "War of the Ring." But knowing nothing of it, Mayline wasn't satisfied.

Her hope was that someone, somewhere, knew whether or not Frodo and the others had returned. Ever since her sister Della had hinted at it, her mind whirled with anticipation that it might be true, and that reason to their unjust parting might at last be explained.

With a sigh Mayline calmed her heart and stopped beside a tomato stand. Whether she was truly in the right place at the right time, only time would tell. Gently she picked through the tomatoes and searched for the best ones. After placing them in the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, she turned and started to move on.

But the hobbit-woman had taken no more than a few steps before a voice, old in memory but ever so familiar, reached her ears.

"Now don't go messin' too much with the onions—they're as weak and bruised as should already be. Besides, I don't quite know if the crowd will be likin' them—"

Immediately Mayline whirled around, so quickly that the few tomatoes she obtained nearly few from her basket. Eyes wide, she stared at the hobbit across from her in the market.

"Samwise?" she exclaimed.

He turned, and immediately shock riddled him as much as it had her. He grinned and his seriousness disappeared.

"Why hello there!" he shouted. "No one thought you were still 'round!"

Darting forward Mayline let out a cry of excitement and threw her arms about him, not yet noticing exactly how much he had changed.

"I've just arrived!" she informed. "I'm helping prepare for the party tonight."

Her eyes were gleaming, and it was then she noticed Merry standing quietly beside him. A small smile was on his mouth, and Mayline's tackle nearly sent him to the ground.

"Merry! I can't tell you how long I've hoped this day would happen!"

He laughed. "Easy does it Mayline! None of us are as hardy as we used to be. Pip is around here somewhere—he and I are the ones who arranged for the bash tonight."

Mayline blinked and stepped back. "You are?"

Merry nodded. "We thought a celebration might be fitting, considering all that has happened and all that's finally done."

And for the first time, Mayline realized neither the old Merry nor Samwise stood in front her.

The youth and vigorousness of their faces had dissolved somewhat, and she saw just how heavy of a year had truly weighed on them. Merry and Sam were also considerably thinner, and although their eyes held the gleam of life, something else rested behind that would never leave. Her heart, suddenly, was heavy with sympathy. Mayline teared up a little, and all she wanted to do was embrace them and never let go.

Finally, they had returned to her.

"It wasn't safe to speak of our journey before, but we can tell everything now," Merry said at length. He stepped forward and took her hands. "Not here in the market though—there is too much to the tale. But I'm glad you'll be here with us tonight Mayline, it's been too long since we've been together. After the celebration we'll tell all, especially when Frodo is around."

Mayline nodded. That was perfectly acceptable, and indeed, fate had allowed her to wander into the right place at the right time.

She closed her eyes.

_Yes, when Frodo is around. _


	6. Thanks To Peregrin Took

_Thanks to Peregrin Took_

* * *

><p>"Frodo! She's here! She's back!"<p>

These were the words Samwise shouted after throwing open the door to Bag End. Once he left the market with Merry, he raced all the way back. Panting he stepped inside the foyer and peered into the main area with the fireplace, but no fire was burning and room was dark.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sam continued deeper on into Bag End.

"Frodo?"

He called his name several times as he looked into all the rooms he passed, but no answer ever came. No lights were on, and at last when Sam reached Frodo's study, a spark of hope filled him. A small amount of light poured out from the gap beneath the door.

Not even bothering to knock, he threw open the door and grinned. Even if Frodo was busy concentrating on his writing, news of Mayline would be a worthy interruption.

"Mr. Frodo, Mayline is—!"

He scanned the room and stopped shouting at once. Sam blinked. It was empty. A small oil lamp burned on top of Frodo's desk, but the book he wrote in was closed.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Mayline and Della were busy getting ready inside their aunt's hole. The older hobbit-woman laughed and shook her head at them as they fussed and argued over outfits and how they would do their hair. In an old trunk Mayline had found a found a brilliant white blouse, slightly ruffled in the right places and to her convenience, it fit just right.<p>

She paired it with a dark blue skirt she had brought with her from Crickhollow, and Della sighed in admiration as she sat on her bed staring at her. "You look wonderful Mayline!"

A touch bashful, Mayline shrugged. "I'm really just a little above average tonight."

Della shook her head. "I'd say not. You'll definitely turn a few heads. But the only thing that's missing is the perfect accessory."

She rose from the bed and Mayline watched as she opened the drawer of a small dresser. She approached after that with a small brown box, and Mayline furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's in there?"

Della opened the top. "It belonged to mother," she said quietly.

Sitting in the box on a silk handkerchief was a fine white chain of medium length, and attached to it was a small yellow stone. Their parents had died when they were young, and of the few things of theirs that had been salvaged, Mayline had never seen the necklace before.

"You don't want this?" she asked curiously.

Della shrugged. "It's beautiful, but I already have a necklace of hers. Besides, it certainly goes with the blouse."

Her sister took it from the box and Mayline reached back, lifting her hair. The chain was cool when it touched her skin, and the small yellow rock was heavier than expected. Mayline grasped the stone with her hand after Della clasped the ends of the necklace.

"Now I need a perfect accessory."

Turning, Mayline faced her as a thought crossed her mind. "You're wearing a red blouse, right?"

Della nodded. Mayline crossed the room to her leather bag and rummaged through it before pulling out the comb she had got from the market in Buckland.

As she carried it to Della the gem fragments gleamed in the light. Della took it from her and raised her eyebrows.

"You're going to let me use this?"

Mayline smiled. "You can have it."

There was a pause as her sister examined it. "But isn't this the one you told me about… the comb Bomar bought you?"

Mayline blinked. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"No. I'm just surprised you'd give it away."

Mayline said nothing, but at length she shrugged. "He never said I couldn't. Besides, you're my sister Della. I wouldn't give it anyone other than you."

…

When at last the two of them were ready, Mayline and Della left their aunt's hole with linked arms and set down the road. Already music and lights from the party filled the air, and Hobbiton seemed abandoned as almost all had gone to the bash.

Mayline's necklace had fallen behind the fabric of her blouse and the stone was cool against her skin. When at last they reached the party, all the tables beneath the tents were packed. Bomar and his band were performing on the other end of the pasture, and already a tight crowd of dancers had formed in front of them. Mayline stared ahead, motionless, and took in a deep breath of air.

Somewhere within the crowd, _he_ was there.

"I'm going to grab a bite over at the food tent," Della said to her. "Are you hungry?"

Mayline shook her head. "You can go—I think I'll find some old friends."

Della nodded. "When you're with Bomar, find me."

Mayline nodded and Della disappeared into the crowd. After looking around, she found the tent with all the kegs and started forward. It was as good a guess as any she'd run into Sam, Pippin or Merry there—perhaps even Frodo. But when she weaved through all the hobbits and found none of them, Mayline walked away into a darker part of the pasture. At a loss, she stared back at the tent and sighed.

"Mayline!—is that you?"

Wheeling to her left, she had no chance to respond as Pippin's arms flew around her. Stumbling back she laughed and embraced him.

"Pippin! How are you?"

He stepped back and smiled at her, a full mug of beer in his hand. Despite his clothing being a bit wrinkled and disheveled, he was also dressed elegantly. On top of his white tunic he wore a fine red jacket with gold buttons, and his pants were stained but more dressy than normal.

"Doin' just fine, Mayline. It's wonderful to see you again—and so fancy."

Mayline rolled her eyes. "Where are the others Pip? Have you seen…?"

Pippin raised his eyebrows. "Have I seen…?"

Mayline exhaled. "Frodo?"

Pippin shook his head vigorously. "Not since yesterday evening I'm afraid. Word is he's not comin'."

Mayline blinked. "He's not?"

"No."

"Does he know I'm here?"

Pippin shrugged, slightly frowning. "Couldn't tell ya."

Mayline sighed. She put arm around him and kissed his cheek. Although Sam and Merry had returned a slightly different version of themselves both inside and out, Pippin at least had managed to remain much like himself.

"It was wonderful to see you again, and I'll be meeting you guys after the party. I think I'll go find my sister."

Pippin nodded. "I'll tell Sam and Merry you're here then—at least you'll be able to be in our company."

Mayline nodded, and they went separate ways.

* * *

><p>The bash was certainly a hit. Even from a distance and across a small river bank Frodo could tell Merry and Pippin's party was probably the largest ever held in Hobbiton—perhaps even exceeding the last party of Bilbo. He sighed at the still vivid memory of it, sitting alone in the dark and close to the water.<p>

In truth he would have liked to been part of the festivities, but the stamina it took to endure a Shire party had long been spent, and he decided it was best to sit out.

Besides, Mayline wasn't there.

Ever since he heard she had left the Shire he thought heavily as to where she'd gone, and regretted more than once he'd had to leave her. But after all the fellowship had endured, there was no way she could have been a part of the War of the Ring and lasted. Even he was shocked he had made it through still breathing.

To his left, footsteps suddenly broke through the grass. Immediately Frodo looked over and tensed as a dark figure moved toward him. It made no other sound than heavy footsteps falling upon the dirt, and he could see something held tight in its hand.

"There you are!"

Out of nowhere and no longer a strange dark figure, Pippin plopped down beside him. Frodo blinked and stared with wide-eyes; shocked he'd been found. Pippin took a swig from the mug in his hand and grinned.

"You pick some of the most unusual spots to sit out on a excellent party, even for a hobbit," Pippin said.

Frodo frowned a little. "I can't say I'm much in the mood for celebrations tonight. How did you find me?"

Pippin shrugged. "It would be too easy for anyone to harass you at Bag End, so I figured you had slinked off somewhere dark and ominous."

Frodo raised his eyebrows and peered back at lights of the party. "You guessed well, Pip."

"But that's not all."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Frodo looked back at him. Pippin was smirking.

"I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Now that'll spoil the fun if I tell you. You'll have to come to the party to get it."

Frodo sighed. "I'd like to go, but it will ware me out Pippin. I'm surprised the rest of you still have the strength to party like we used too."

For a little while there was silence between them as they both stared at the party lights. Pippin finished the contents of his mug, and tapped his finger against his chin as he thought. "I suppose if you really can't come, I could bring the gift to you."

A small, but rare smile touched Frodo's mouth. "Thank you."

"Alas, under one condition."

Frodo's smile faded. Despite Pippin's excitement, he somehow doubted whatever condition it was would leave him feeling the same. Pippin dug around in his pocket, and at long last he found was he was looking for and held it out to Frodo.

"You have to wear this."

Frodo blinked. It was a blindfold.


	7. Surprise!

_Surprise! _

* * *

><p>Pippin raced through the crowd, back to the area he had first seen Mayline. When he got there he looked around, but she was nowhere in sight. Beneath a tent not too far way he spotted Sam and raced over. Pippin stopped in front of him and struggled to catch his breath, bent part way over with his hands on his knees.<p>

"Have you seen Mayline?" he managed.

Sam blinked. "Can't say I have—is she here?"

Pippin nodded his head. "Yes and I must find her. I've put together a surprise."

Sam, who was sitting partly turned away from the table in front of him, furrowed his eyebrows.

"What's goin' on?" he asked suspiciously.

…

Beneath the food tent, Mayline grabbed a wooden plate and stood in line. Della was nowhere around, and at that point she was growing a bit hungry. But rather than wondering where her sister had gone, Mayline couldn't seem forget Frodo wasn't coming, and that he probably had no idea she was even in the Shire.

Idly she moved down the line and filled her plate with fruit and salad mixes, her outlook on the evening suddenly fading.

"Mayline!"

She turned. Bomar appeared through a crowd of hobbits beside the tent and immediately she perked up, grinning.

"Bomar!"

He came up and put his hands on either side of her face, kissing her. But before she knew what think, his hand was around hers and gently tugging her forward.

"Will you follow me?" he said, his eyes bright.

Mayline set her plate down and nodded, excitement brewing in her. "What's going on?"

Bomar only grinned and started back into the crowd, Mayline only an arm's length behind. He led her away from the party and to a far corner of the pasture, where the light of tents almost didn't reach.

Mayline stood still and stared at him, her heart racing.

"What's going on?" she asked again, this time hoping for an answer.

Bomar looked at her and cleared his throat. He took her other hand in his.

"You love me, don't you?"

Thrown for a moment Mayline blinked, and the question hung in the air.

"Do I love you?"

"You said you did, last night on the ferry."

The memory, although vague, reached her—although she wasn't sure it had been Bomar she meant to hear it. "I guess I did."

Her mind was in a whirl of confusion, both at herself and where Bomar was possibly going with it.

"Well I love you too," he said, his words slipping honestly. "And this month with you has been enough for me to know I want more, and a lot more Mayline. I think… I think we should get married."

Mayline blinked. Her hands went numb, and she could no longer feel his.

"Married?" she replied curiously. It was as though she had never heard of it.

Bomar grinned. "Why not? If we love each other and the time is right, I say we should take the chance and do it. With the money I'll make from tonight we could leave Buckland and live anywhere, even here in the Shire. You pick a spot and I'll live there, so long as you're with me."

Mayline didn't respond, and Bomar lowered to one knee.

"I'm sorry this is sudden, and I'm forgetting half of what I'm supposed to do. But I wanted to propose before the band gets back on stage again, I _needed_ too."

Still, Mayline stared unmoving, but the corner of her mouth had turned up. Bomar noted her faint smile and his confidence in the almost spontaneous proposal grew.

"Will you marry me Sweet Mayline?"

…

Pippin grinned and filled the empty space beside Sam. "I found Frodo," he whispered.

Shocked, Sam blinked. "Where? Earlier today I searched Bag End but he was—"

In that moment, Pippin jumped up. Above the heads of the crowd he thought he caught a glimpse of Mayline returning from a dark part of the pasture. He raced from the tent and left Sam behind, scrambling to figure out whether or not he had really seen her.

But once he had weaved through a large part of crowd, he indeed spotted her, starry eyed and at a loss for breath.

"Thank goodness I found ya—follow me!" he shouted. "I have a surprise for you!"

He bounded up to her and startled, Mayline snapped from her trance. "A surprise?"

The music of Kicking Juniper flooded the air again after a previously short break. Pippin nodded and grasped her wrist, but Mayline resisted.

"Pippin I—"

She couldn't quite find the words to explain what had just happened with Bomar, and as for another surprise she didn't think she could handle it.

"Please?" he whined, his hands falling together in prayer. "Trust me, you won't be regretting it."

With a sigh Mayline's hand fell on her forehead. At least she wasn't feverish, but there was no way to deny him.

"Alright, but tell me what it is. I can't handle any more surprises tonight."

But to her dismay Pippin shook his head and he rummaged through his pocket. Mayline furrowed her eyebrows when he pulled out a long black piece of fabric.

"Patience! You'll be knowing soon enough. But first, you have to wear this."

…

It seemed almost a half hour had passed since Pippin left him on the road at the bottom of Bag End, alone and blindfolded. Frodo sighed and rubbed his neck, staring into nothing but darkness. He felt somewhat foolish and had no idea what the crazy hobbit was up to, but was it not for the guilt of missing out the party, he probably wouldn't still be standing there.

But at long last, Frodo tensed as he heard footsteps approaching from a little ways down the road. The steps were slow and light, and it sounded as though there was more than one pair. Under strict orders not to speak, Frodo held back despite the fact his blood was beginning to race.

If anything touched him or a foul odor filled the air that reawakened fears he hadn't yet been able to abandon, he was going to bolt. But just as the footsteps became no more than a few feet away, a friendly voice filled the air.

"Alright, now you may reach out and feel your surprise."

Pippin brought Mayline to a halt and released her shoulders. Grinning, he stepped back, eager for something to happen.

Mayline saw nothing from behind her blindfold, not even a slice of the road at her feet. Slowly she reached out, half expecting the "surprise" to be a cruel joke and something was going to reach out and grab her. If only Pippin knew what had happened before he found her, perhaps his sympathy would have been greater.

But instead of something frightening or rough, her fingertips found the soft fabric of a vest.

In a brief moment of shock, Mayline felt the chest beneath it rise and fall slightly. She continued up, her hands gently groping along and finding several smooth buttons, but nothing that possessed any familiarity.

Whoever stood in front of her remained quite still, and Mayline hesitated before she let her hand fall on the side of the stranger's face. Her heart had almost stopped now that the surprise was finally unraveling. Her wildest dreams came to life all in one moment, and Mayline could hardly restrain from tearing off her blindfold.

At last her hand touched his skin, warm and soft, but faintly hollow at the cheeks. She also found small, but risen scars, and when her fingers found a strand of waved hair, tears welled behind her blindfold.

"It's you," she muttered, so quietly her words were almost lost.

At once her arms fell and Mayline took the strangers hands in her own. Her grip tightened, but unexpectedly, something peculiar nearly destroyed all her hopes.

It wasn't Frodo after all. It couldn't be.

There was something odd about his right hand, and last she remembered, Frodo wasn't missing a finger…

Mayline sighed and tears soaked her blindfold. She had no will to remove it anymore, for she couldn't bear to see the truth.

"It's not you after all," she admitted, her voice hurt. "It's not you Frodo."

For a moment only her quiet weeping filled the air until the blindfold was slowly pulled from her eyes and cast upon the ground.

"Sweet Mayline, it is me."

Without a word she rushed into him, her arms flying around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. Frodo's arms tightened around her with a strength she had never known from him before, and Pippin quietly disappeared.

For a long time they simply held each other. Mayline had fallen into a wreck as suppressed and denied grief at last poured out, and at her touch Frodo was finally convinced he had returned home. Eventually Mayline broke free of his hold and wiped her cheeks.

"Frodo, I know what I want to say but I don't. It's been so—"

Her shaky words fell silent as he filled the space between them again and his hand cupped the side of her jaw.

"What can really be said?" he replied quietly.

Frodo kissed her, but as it began to deepen, Mayline backed out of it, doing what she never imagined she could. It wasn't right, not now. In fact, it was too late…

But before revealing a shocking truth, something else weighed heavily on her heart.

"Before you left, you said you were sure you loved me," she said. "I love you Frodo Baggins, and I have to know if you feel the same way. I imagine you do, but I need to hear it. I need to know what to do… about what's happened."

He was still close to her, and their noses weren't more than an inch apart. He didn't know what the last part of her request meant, but the truth had long been ready to spill.

"It's a tale you'll learn in time, either in pieces or in whole. But I saved the fate of Middle-earth Mayline—that's why I left you a year ago, right after I had made you my lass. For a year I thought of nothing but the sweet smell of Shire grass, of the birds and how they sing in morning, and that I might never return to experience them again. But as sweet as those memories were my heart regretted none of it—only you. I do love you Mayline Puddifoot, and I'm back. I'm ready to be here with you in the Shire as I promised, until the end of my days."

But no more than a few minutes after he spoke, Mayline felt her head grow light. Everything after she did not remember, but had it not been for Frodo and the quick clutch of his arms, she would have hit the ground, lost in darkness.


	8. The Hurt One

_The Hurt One_

* * *

><p>Mayline woke to sunlight shining through a window and spilling across her face. Lost in a heap of pillows and blankets she yawned, smiling sleepily because of the comfort all around her. Where she was she wasn't concerned with right away, and instead pushed aside the covers and walked out of a small, but very furnished bedroom.<p>

Her feet carried her down a dark hallway and into another area full of sunlight pouring in from the windows. Stopping, Mayline blinked, realizing the fireplace and large oak table in front of her covered in books and parchment was incredibly familiar.

"Good morning. It's comforting you're finally awake."

That was Frodo's voice. She was in Bag End.

Mayline brought her eyes from the oak table and slowly peered into the doorway of the kitchen. Frodo stood there, leaning sideways against the wall and holding a cup of something that was steaming. He approached, holding it out and smiling.

"This will help," he said calmly. "It's tea from Rivendell. Bilbo sent it for me."

Mayline accepted it from him, but she said nothing and not even a faint smile blossomed. Hurt was stirring in her chest, and if at any moment he and Bag End faded as quickly as a dream, she'd feel no grief. Her shoulders and posture, tense from being so close to him, involuntarily loosened as she breathed in the aroma of the tea.

Frodo furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at her, not quite sure what to say. Her gaze was cast off to the side, and she seemed not care he existed at all. Of the Mayline he reunited with the night before, it seemed every bit of her was strangely gone…

"What happened last night?" she said at last, lowly.

Frodo blinked. "I'm not quite sure. You fainted all of a sudden and I carried you back here."

Mayline nodded as she vaguely remembered her world turning black. She brought the tea cup to her mouth and sipped the heavenly mix. Frodo moved closer to her.

"You are alright, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure—I don't know why I fainted. Do I look alright?"

Frodo closed much of the space between them as he put his hand on her forehead. "You look just fine, and feel it too. I guess the shock of meeting again was too overwhelming."

"It still is, a little. Perhaps I should just stay away from you."

There was no hint of a joke in her voice, and Frodo blinked again, almost unable to accept she might actually be serious.

Masking his slight hurt, he figured there was only one thing he could do, one thing that might bring the desired Mayline back. Frodo closed his eyes and leaned into her gently. Mayline sighed and her heart fluttered, but before his mouth touched hers her anger was able to return. She let go of her tea cup and it fell to the floor, striking with a sudden noise that sent Frodo back and glass and tea everywhere.

For a moment the two of them stood without a sound, staring at the mess on the floor. But at last Frodo glanced at her, crushed before disappearing into kitchen. Tears came to her eyes as Mayline turned and quickly fled from Bag End.

She made it to the start of the trail before halting, her emotions too overwhelming to go on. It just wasn't fair, none of it, not now. To wake up as she always wanted, in the hole she desired to share with the sun spilling across her…

For a minute or so she stood, quietly crying until a soft and sad voice reached her.

"Where are you going?"

Mayline turned and her gaze fell into Frodo's. The rag he'd grabbed from the kitchen was still in his hands, but it wasn't wet.

_It's all your fault. _

"I'm going away from… from _you_."

Her words were as bitter as she felt, and the hobbit-woman covered her face with her hands.

"_Will you marry me Sweet Mayline?"_

_That name… none called her that, save one. But he wasn't there—not at the party, not anywhere within her grasp. Mayline's hands tightened around Bomar's. Had Frodo ever truly cared, it would have been him, down on one knee before her…_

_And in that moment anger started to brew. For the first time in her life, she despised Frodo Baggins. To be sure of loving someone wasn't the same as actually knowing, and a year of silence wasn't the same as at the very least, one letter or messenger. The last night they were together, Frodo asked for her heart and took it, then left her behind, with so much as nothing. _

_Mayline's vision grew blurry. _

_But then there was Bomar. In such a short amount of time, he had been so sweet, and taken the plunge that after years Frodo never had…_

_His gaze remained eager but painfully patient as he waited. _

_Mayline grinned and bent to kiss him. "I will marry you." _

Frodo said nothing. In the chill of the air, his chest was tightening, and he had no idea as to what he had done. As to what might have happened…

At last Mayline wiped her cheeks and uncovered her face, glaring at him. His pained but angelic expression was making her sick.

"Why do you look like that?" she snapped. "Why should _you_ ever get to be the hurt one? I waited for a year and you sent not a letter or word Frodo—and I bet never once did you try."

His frown grew deeper. "I don't know how I've harmed you so deeply Mayline—I only did what I had to, which was to save Middle-earth. It was a task _forced_ upon me. Everything I had ever known was almost lost and it was for a short time, including you. Any kind of contact would have been unwise, if not utterly impossible."

She started at him, but her heart found little room for sympathy.

_It was supposed to be you. Don't you know that?_

"I'm engaged Frodo," Mayline at last admitted. "And I'd like you know it's to someone who knew the moment he saw me what he wanted. Our chance after all the years we knew each other is gone."

With more tears flooding, Mayline turned and left him without a chance to respond. She ran the rest of the way down the trail, as if it all could somehow be left behind. But whether or not Frodo called after her or tried to follow she didn't know, for she never looked back.

…

In the party pasture, only a few tents remained to be taken down before the area was free of any sign of hobbit invasion. Bomar untied the main string of a tent and other hobbits gathered around the poll to catch the white fabric as it fell. He had been working since day break, but the entire time he had only thought about Mayline.

Although Demir had managed to stop his mad search for her the night before, the knot in his stomach never disappeared, and it seemed as though something was in the Shire. Something familiar yet unexpected, which affected her and kept her away.

He exhaled.

Only three words could described his bride—sweet, affectionate, but secretive. During their time in Buckland he remembered the reservation she'd had toward some subjects, the look in her eye when he first mentioned the Shire. But despite understanding and respecting her boundaries, a lack of answers had suddenly become wearing.

It wasn't just kin Mayline thought might extend her stay. If it was, she wouldn't have disappeared…

"Bomar!"

A loud but sweet voice filled the air and he turned. Mayline was rushing toward him, the chain of her mother's necklace gleaming around her neck beneath the sun and her arms outstretched. She jumped into the air and fell into his embrace, her legs going around his middle.

Shock overwhelmed him. "Mayline! Where have you been?"

He set her down and she shrugged. "I met up with an friend last night and fell asleep in their hole," she said, fibbing a little. "I only meant to be gone a while—I'm so sorry no word reached you, but I figured I'd find you here."

His hands found her face and he put his forehead against hers. "I was worried, but I'm fine now that you're finally with me again, and alright."

Mayline grinned. "Are you almost finished here? I want to go back to Buckland as soon as we can—we have a wedding to plan."


	9. Anywhere But the Shire

**Wow. I have been meaning to post this FOREVER, but life has been incredibly in the way. Sorry for such the wait, I didn't intend it! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Anywhere but the Shire<em>

* * *

><p>After Mayline turned and fled down the trail, Frodo walked numbly back into Bag End. He passed the pieces of glass and flecks of tea that made it as far as the foyer and continued down the dark hallway. Frodo approached the room he had put Mayline in the night before, but his steps continued until the room he reached was his own.<p>

Inside, he shut the door behind him, and any remaining trace of the sun disappeared. The room was dark as it was one of the few without a window, but at the moment, it suited him. Frodo found his bed and slid beneath the sheets, burying his head beneath the pillows.

Darkness was all he needed now.

* * *

><p>It was evening in the Shire when Sam finally had enough of wondering. Pippin had filled him in on the details of his plan the night of the party, and all day he had expected to see Frodo and Mayline going about Hobbiton, arm in arm with nothing but grins on their faces. But as it were, he hadn't seen a glimpse of either of them.<p>

After seeing Mayline again, certainly Frodo would have returned to himself and taken to the outdoors as he had before the War. The sun had lowered behind the trees when Sam at last set out for Bag End, wondering why his fantasy hadn't played out.

When he reached the trail he followed it up, but saw no lights flickering on the inside in preparation for the night. Curiously, Sam paused in front of the door before letting himself in.

Bag End seemed empty, yet he knew somewhere Frodo was hidden. As he stepped further inside he stopped when he saw pieces of the broken tea cup and the mess of the Rivendell tea, the smell now lingering heavily in the air. Frowning, none of it was a good sign, and Sam continued on.

Every room was dark and so was the one that belonged to Frodo, but Sam stopped and decided he should look inside anyway. After lighting one of the lanterns in the hall, he opened the door and peeped his head in. Light spilled across the bed, and he saw a shape beneath the sheets. One of Frodo's hands was exposed—tightened into a fist.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said quietly.

There was no answer, but the shape beneath the sheets stirred. Sam stepped further inside and approached Frodo's bedside. For a moment he stood in silently, not sure what else to say, until:

"She hates me, Sam."

Frodo's voice was hardly audible as it came from beneath the pillows. Sam blinked.

"What did ya say?"

At length, Frodo slowly pulled the pillow from his head. He peered at Sam briefly, and the light behind his blue gaze was dull.

"_Mayline_," he said, his voiced pained. "She hates me."

Frowning, Sam sunk down and sat on the side of the bed. "That's a lie, if I ever heard one. Mayline could never…"

"She does—I'm too late. Our timing has always been off… I know I took a lot of it for granted."

After an entire day heavy with depression and thought, Frodo made sense of all Mayline's behavior, and found that he agreed with her. He shouldn't be the hurt one, it seemed. Not after all the time carelessly lost.

"What happened?" Sam said lowly. "Pippin told me you two rekindled but I couldn't get much more outta him."

At that, Frodo pulled himself up. He leaned back against the pillows and his gaze was to the side.

"We did and I told her Sam—I finally did. I said I loved her and she felt the same way, but this morning she could barely look at me."

"She was here last night?"

"She fainted after we met and I brought her back here. I realize now I should have carried her back to her aunt's hole… but I thought waking up in Bag End would be a pleasant surprise."

Frodo grabbed the sheets and started to bury himself again, but Sam stopped him.

"What went wrong?" he asked earnestly. "You still haven't spilled that part yet. Why aren't the two of you together now? As it was always meant—"

Frodo sighed and finally brought his gaze to him. "She's _engaged_ Sam, and to someone who doesn't waste time. I don't know if it's to a hobbit of the Shire or not, but I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm in love with her… nothing can be done about it now."

Sam sighed, heavily. The falling out was not the news he wanted to hear, but somehow, it wasn't so surprising. Frodo cast his gaze into the dark as the reality of Bag End faded. He was lost to a memory, and at length, his quiet voice brought Sam from his thoughts.

"Would it have been better if…"

Sam waited, but Frodo didn't continue. He swallowed.

"Would what have been better if…?"

Dread slowly creeped on him as he somehow knew the answer wasn't going to be a good one. Frodo continued to stare distantly and his hand went to his neck. But the smooth silver chain that had long rested there was gone.

"…if I had let go. If I had shared the same fate as Gollum."

Sam blinked, and frowned as he discovered his fears to be right. Of course he didn't believe things would have been better if Frodo had not taken his hand. If he had instead condemned himself to the fiery pit once so hot and devouring beneath them.

Sam almost shared the obvious feelings swelling beneath his chest, but Frodo was still somewhere far off, and no answer would reach him.

* * *

><p>Mayline and Della were in a fit of laughter as they walked with their arms linked to the front door of their aunts' hole. Bomar and Aunt Taura followed behind them, leftover smiles on their faces from a rather embarrassing story Bomar had just shared about his band mate, Demir.<p>

Mayline took her cloak from a peg on the wall and slung it over her shoulders as Bomar did the same. He picked her bag up from the floor handed it to her. Smiling, Mayline accepted it and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

Della sighed dramatically. "You two are adorable."

Mayline smirked. "We can't help it."

With a slight grin Bomar rolled his eyes. It was only his duty to do the gentlemen things.

"Well it was lovely to finally meet you Bomar," Aunt Taura said warmly. "Please make sure Mayline brings you back again. Will the wedding be here in the Shire?"

There was a pause as Mayline and Bomar peered at one another. Although they had agreed to have it in Buckland and Mayline's mind hadn't changed, the questioning look in Bomar's eye caused her to furrow her eyebrows.

"I thought I mentioned we'll be having it Buckland," Mayline said slowly, turning her head back toward her aunt.

Aunt Taura blinked. "Oh that's right, I suppose you did."

Della nodded. "Buckland has some beautiful spots for a spring wedding, depending on when you two set the date."

"After the party, I'm sort of impressed with the pastures here," Bomar interjected. "I don't think they're as large or lush in Buckland, and if the date isn't too far, we could marry here, just as fall begins."

His gaze had fallen on Mayline. She stood with her arm linked in his, at a loss of what to say.

There was only so much he didn't know, and so much she wanted to get away from. And if another day could pass without having to confess it all, the more she would prolong it. But before she could say anything, Aunt Taura spoke up.

"Clearly you two still have much to think about," she said with a smile. "But it doesn't matter where you decide to have it—I'll certainly come either way."

Aunt Taura stepped forward and hugged Mayline, kissing her on the cheek. She embraced Bomar and soon Della came forward and pulled them all into a group hug.

"Blessings to my lovely sister and soon to be charming brother-in-law," she said.

Mayline grinned and hugged her before she and Bomar turned toward the door. She opened it and the cool night air hit her at once, causing her to take most of it in in a deep breath. Bomar slipped his arm around her waist, and after waving to her aunt and sister, the door closed and they set down the road.

Once at the inn, they would sleep until their ferry ride to Buckland in the morning.

"Is your heart really set on being wed in Buckland?" Bomar said quietly, at length. "If it is, don't let me—"

Mayline stirred from her daydreams and looked at him.

"No," she cut in. "I mean, we're in this together. We should both be happy with where the wedding is."

Bomar nodded. "The smials are especially nice here too. With my cut of the money, we could even…"

Mayline slowed to a stop, and so did Bomar. They stood a foot or so apart, searching each other's gazes.

"…live here?"

She finished his thought, and it hung in the air between them. Bomar blinked.

Before he could respond, footsteps approached them. They watched as a hobbit neared in the distance, and when he was close enough, Mayline's eyes widened and a smile touched her mouth.

"Merry!"

Merry stopped no less than a yard away and grinned. He was dressed normally, and as to what his errand was at this hour, she couldn't tell.

"Mayline! Fancy catching you again."

Merry's eyes flashed to Bomar, and for a half a second, he thought she was on an evening stroll with Frodo.

"Who is this?" he asked, trying to hide his surprise at the resemblance.

Bomar smiled and stepped forward. He offered his hand.

"Bomar Sackville-Baggins."

Merry blinked and shook his hand. "Sackville-Baggins did you say?"

Bomar nodded. "It's alright—if you've met them I'm nothing like my kin."

Merry smiled and relaxed. "Wouldn't be right of me to assume the worst of you so soon. What are you two doing at this hour?"

Mayline grinned. "We just left my aunt's, and I could ask the same for you."

Merry shrugged. "Just on my way to Pip's."

A subtle breeze picked up, and Mayline decided it was then she'd spill the news.

"This might come as a bit of a shock Merry, but—Bomar and I are actually going to be married soon. We're not sure on the date or place, but it's all fairly new."

A silence fell as Merry stepped back, unsure what to say. Mayline came up against Bomar's side and he put his arm across her shoulders, hoping the hobbit he'd just met wasn't about to faint.

"Congratulations," Merry said at last, sincere but also a little curious. "Does Fro—"

At the sudden look on Mayline's face he stopped instantly.

"Well we should be off Merry," she said quickly. "We've got a long trip back to Buckland early tomorrow morning."

Merry blinked. "You're leaving?"

She nodded.

"You can't leave tomorrow, why you haven't even heard about our _quest_. Best one of all, if I do say so. Come on Mayline—Bomar, you should both stay to hear it."

Mayline opened her mouth to protest, but Bomar spoke first.

"We don't _have_ to leave tomorrow morning," he offered. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind staying here longer." He looked at Mayline. "Sounds like this would be a good chance for me to meet everyone you know, especially if they've all returned from something exciting."

Merry grinned. "I suppose you could call it exciting, but really there's not a single word that can cover it all. What do you say, Mayline? The rest of us must have the chance to meet your fiancé."

She stood stiff, clutching Bomar's arm. Merry was staring eagerly at her, and she knew Bomar would be pleased with only one end of the decision. She sighed, but the tension in her shoulders mounted.

"Let's stay," she said with a faint smile. "I do need to hear the tale Merry and I shouldn't put it off—not after a year of wondering."

"Then it's settled," he replied. "You two go back to the inn and get a good night's rest. I'll tell Pip that we need to arrange a night of good food and stories soon."

Mayline nodded numbly and Bomar shook his hand again, grinning. With that, Merry waved, and continued down the road.


	10. The Mood of the Day

**So… not much feedback on the last chapter at all :( I'm thinking that maybe it fell on too depressing a note, and none of you were sure what to say, or even that you liked it. Ack, sorry, I needed a depressing chapter. But, in exchange, I've decided to be generous and get to better matters quicker than intended. I'm doing this for you, so if you like this next installment at all, please tell me so :)**

* * *

><p><em>The Mood of the Day<em>

* * *

><p>That night, when Bomar and Mayline returned to the inn, they came into their room quietly and tried not to disturb Bomar's other band mates, who were sound asleep. With few words between them Mayline and Bomar changed before sliding beneath their bed sheets.<p>

It seemed that within minutes Bomar had fallen into dreams while Mayline was left alone in consciousness, restless and thought heavy. She lay in her own bed, her eyes on the ceiling as she tried to figure out how all the pieces of her old and new life might fit together comfortably.

A night of good food and stories, as Pippin had proposed and she'd reluctantly agreed too, wasn't as delightful as it sounded.

A while passed before Mayline eventually crawled out of bed and went to a small desk not far away. There, she searched her bag and pulled out her notebook, which she wrote in after lighting a small candle.

Everything that had happened since she returned to the Shire she recorded in great detail, from Bomar's proposal, to everything that had happened between her and Frodo…

_Frodo. _

Sometimes tears welled in her eyes when she wrote about him, and sometimes they fell and hit the page. Although she was still angry about years wasted, she wished she hadn't acted as thoughtlessly as she had the last time they were together.

_If I could take that morning back…_ she wrote. _If I could come out of the hallway into the sun and do it all over again, I'd smile at you Frodo as you leaned against the kitchen archway. I would put my feelings aside, and instead fight to feel warm in your presence again. _

_I'm angry, but I do love you. _

Mayline wiped her eyes with her sleeve and turned a little in her seat. Her tired gaze fell on Bomar, who wasn't far away and still sleeping soundlessly. With a silent sigh Mayline turned back and stared at the small part of the page that was still blank.

_I love you both. _

* * *

><p>Sam scurried about the kitchen of Bag End early the next morning, preparing breakfast and cleaning up messes here and there. Throughout the night he had stayed with Frodo, and that morning he'd managed to coax him out of bed and into the sunlight.<p>

Frodo sat warily at kitchen table, in the same clothes he'd worn the day before and his hair a mess. He cared little for the tea and eggs Sam had placed in front of him, and when Sam finally sat down, he looked at Frodo expectantly.

"Well, you gotta take a bite sometime," he chided lightly. "Go on—I took care this morning and made everything the way you like it."

Frodo's eyes dropped from Sam to the plate, and he slowly reached out and picked up the fork. He knew Sam was right—that he should eat something, if only a few bites. The eggs and tea would do him some good, probably, and he could see cheese had been melted into the egg, which was how he liked them.

"Thank you Sam."

He tasted a small bit of the scrambled eggs, but the sweetness of it suddenly sparked his appetite in a way he hadn't expected. Before either one of them knew it, Frodo had cleared the plate completely without pause. Sam blinked when Frodo set his tea cup back down on the table afterward, empty.

His heart considerably lighter now that the heaviness in him was now in his stomach, Frodo smiled a little.

"Perhaps I was a bit more hungry than I thought."

Sam blinked again but greeted.

"Perhaps you were. I can make more—"

"No need," Frodo said as he rose from the table. "I'm perfectly full now."

He left the table and crossed the kitchen, approaching the small round window above the water pump sink. The sunlight returned light back into his blue gaze, and he stared out at the Shire with the sudden desire to be in it.

He didn't know why exactly, but it seemed to be the new mood of the day.

"I think I'll visit the market," Frodo said suddenly, almost excited. "Care to join me Sam?"

When he turned, he saw that Sam was beaming. As Sam stared at Frodo, he couldn't help but relish in the fact that his friend finally seemed to be leaving his wallow. Finally, he wanted to enjoy the Shire beneath the sun, as was natural for him.

"Absolutely Mr. Frodo."

…

Mayline rose bright and early, around the same time things had started to look up at another end of the Shire. Although everyone else around her was still asleep, she washed up and dressed, preparing to spend the day outside.

The sun glowed behind the curtains of the room, and she tied her hair back and smoothed out the few wrinkles in her dress in front of a slightly dusty mirror. Afterward Mayline wrote a short note which she left at Bomar's bedside, explaining she had gone to explore the Shire for the day and that she would return to him later.

Downstairs, Mayline snatched a muffin before heading out the front doors. The fresh air seemed to cure all she had worried about last night, and bring on a new mood of the day. Admittedly it was a strange mood, one that made her feel like the older but younger Mayline, who had never once set foot outside the Shire.

The hobbit woman left the main of Hobbiton at an easy pace, her muffin long gone by the time she reached long green pastures that led to a forest in the distance. It was somewhere in those trees that a log rested over a river, and although they had never given it an official name, it was a spot she and Frodo had frequently visited.

Last time she was there, she nearly tricked him into falling in the waters below.

Grinning, Mayline all at once took off in a run. It was a secret spot known only a few, and along with beauty, she knew she'd find solitude there.

…

After some time in the market and eating considerably more, Frodo's spirits had risen to an all-time high since he had returned. The sun was more rejuvenating than it had ever been, and of course Sam's company was pleasant. Even other hobbits he wasn't familiar with seemed to note he was doing something unusual, and they were glad for it.

They knew his face and name, for he was their hero after all, in some way.

"How long has it been, Sam?"

The two were walking away from the market, and Sam raised his eyebrows. "What do ya mean 'how long has it been'?"

Frodo smiled and even laughed lightly.

"Since you've seen _Rosie_. I don't think I've seen or even heard of you two reuniting since our return to the Shire."

Sam looked away from him, his cheeks growing red. "That's because we haven't. Haven't seen nor heard from her. I suspect she's long forgotten about me now and married off to some fine lad—"

"Why don't you go find out? We're not too far from the Cotton's."

Immediately Sam shook his head. "You're mistaken Frodo—it's all the way at the other end of the Shire, and my feet are too tired to walk there and back."

"Is that so?" Frodo replied with a sly grin. "Then why do I see the Cotton hole just a little further down the road?"

The color of Sam's cheeks grew even darker now that Frodo had caught his white lie. Any hope he miss the obvious hole belonging to the Cotton's on their trip back to Bag End was crushed then.

At the start of the small gate leading to the well-taken care of smial, Frodo put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Go on," he said gently. "Don't live another day not knowing. She may have waited for you."

Sam inhaled and gulped. "I don't think I can do it."

Frodo pushed on his shoulder. "Of course you can. Now quit stalling and _go_ Samwise Gamgee."

Sam looked at him a long moment before slowly bringing his eyes back to the smial. Out of everything he'd wanted to see, touch, and hear again in the Shire, almost all of it was part of one person behind the round door down the walkway from him.

Sam reached out and pushed aside the gate, taking slow but consistent steps to the door. Frodo watched from where he stood on the road.

At the door, Sam knocked cautiously and waited. For several long minutes nothing happened, and he almost lost his nerve before a familiar voice from somewhere in the smial called out, informing someone they would answer the door.

Sam's heart began to pound, and when the door opened, there Rosie was. She was wearing a light dress of whites and deep greens; her hair fell in locks around her face, and more than ever, she was still the only girl he ever would have married.

When Rosie saw him her eyes brightened.

"Sam!" she exclaimed, hardly able to hold back. "What are you doing here?"

His face turned red all over again. "I… I came to see ya Rosie," he admitted.

Rosie blinked and for the first time her cheeks also tinged with pink. "You came to see me?" she repeated.

Sam nodded. "Well I figured I might see if you were still… you know… we had something goin' on before I left and I thought…"

Before he could finish his disjointed thoughts, she was against him, and her arms fell around his neck.

"Are you hungry?" she offered. "I have tea and mushrooms cakes set out if you'd like to come in…"

Her eyes poured into his, hopeful that his stomach was empty enough and he would agree. Sam grinned.

"I can't very well turn an offer like that down—but wait, can Frodo—"

Sam twisted and looked back at the gate, his arms still around Rosie. He expected to see Frodo waiting there, but his eyebrows furrowed when he found the road empty.

"Frodo?"

Rosie's voice made Sam turn back to her. He shrugged.

"He was just here, just with me as we were comin' back from the market."

Rosie broke their embrace and with a small smile took Sam's hand. At her touch his concerns for Frodo died, and warm-cheeked he followed her lead into the hole.

Indeed it appeared as though Frodo had left, but when Sam walked inside and the door to the Cotton's closed, he came out from beneath the shadow of a tall tree across the road. For a moment his gaze remained on the smial, but at last he continued down the road, alone.

Although he knew his presence wouldn't have bothered either one of them, he took it upon himself to give their love private time to blossom, and therefore hid beneath the shadows and removed himself from the mix.

But as he walked, it was near impossible to ignore thoughts of Mayline. Gradually Frodo approached a turn in the road, and when he reached it, he stopped. The turn, were he to follow it, would inevitably take him back to Bag End. Yet, dare he continue forward into the lush grass, he would soon enter trees, and memories would lead him to a secret spot few knew of…

…

Mayline sat alone on the middle of the old log, which was still as strong as it had been many years ago. Absently she picked away at the dead bark as rays of sunlight glowed about her, highlighting the top of the swiftly flowing water beneath her feet.

Much of what surrounded her was lost, and instead only a memory lay before her eyes.

_Frodo, who agreed sitting beside her high above clear, pretty water was a fine idea, left his walking stick against a tree and started slowly onto the log. When he had almost reached her, Mayline's eyes widened and she gasped. _

"_Watch out!" _

_Startled, Frodo lost his balance as he stepped forward and fell, instantly gripping either side of the log with his hands and knees. His breathing had labored and his blue stare locked on her. _

"_What?" he exclaimed. _

Mayline smiled. Her eyes fell on the empty space of the log he had clutched, looking as frightened and pale as if the water beneath them was a hundred feet down instead of ten.

"_You're too easy to fool!" Mayline said, erupting into laughter. "No wonder I like it when you're around. No one makes me laugh as much as you." _

_Frowning, Frodo all at once fixed his position and sat proper on the log, his spirits disgruntled as her laughter continued to fill the air. _

Mayline sighed. Oh Frodo.

"You are too easy to fool," she said aloud, laughing a little as though he might hear her.

"Perhaps I'll be a bit more wise this time around."

In a moment Mayline snapped back to full reality, and she blinked. She stared to the side down at the eastern end of the log, the direction in which the unexpected voice had come.


	11. Futuristic Lover

_Futuristic Lover_

* * *

><p>It was all she could do to remain still. That voice, unlike any other, belonged to Frodo. He stood at the east end of the log, partly in shadow from the woods around them. For a moment Mayline thought she had fallen back in time, even if it was a second into years long gone. But as it was, Frodo was indeed there.<p>

He stepped forward and all shadow fell away. He stepped directly into a ray of sun, and as it never failed to do so, his gaze lit up in a way Mayline had never grown immune too. Her cheeks flushed, and suddenly she felt more embarrassed to be his is presence than surprised.

"Oh, I'm sure you will be," she replied shyly.

A small smile turned the corner of Frodo's mouth. Mayline was also in the sun, and he wasn't the only one who could be hit just right.

Despite how bitter she had been with him in days passed, he felt no fear she might feel the same now; he didn't care. Just to be close was enough for him, whether his presence was eventually met with hostility or not.

"Mind if I join you?" he said calmly.

Mayline shook her head. "No."

She didn't know what it was—her demeanor was childlike, almost that of a shy young lass who had just met a stranger.

Frodo stepped onto the log and walked to her, and she noted a confidence in his step. Unlike last time, she pulled no prank, and when he lowered himself beside her, leaving not much distance between, her gaze fell straight to the water.

But after that he said nothing, and the silence drove her nuts. Out of the corner of her eye Mayline could see his feet swaying back and forth—as if he was completely relaxed and no infecting awkwardness had touched him.

"I'm happy about your engagement, Mayline."

She blinked and brought her gaze to his.

"You are?"

"Yes. I have to be."

"No you don't Frodo."

"Well, I want to be."

She didn't quite know what she was doing, but Mayline's hand slid on top of his. A tiny bit of the surprise showed on his face.

"I never should have been so bitter toward you. I can't tell you how much I regret that."

"I kept us waiting... I can't tell you how much I regret that."

Mayline's fingers squeezed his. She leaned closer and their shoulders touched. Her eyes were illuminated beautifully, and Frodo sighed at the heaviness of his desire for her. She could never just be his first love. No, she would be the only one.

What he saw so clearly with Sam and Rosie was hard not to take for himself with Mayline, was hard not to ask her, right then, to break the engagement…

_You're mine, _he thought unashamed. _I knew it from the first time you kissed me…_

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about our regrets."

"What else is there to say?"

"I'm glad you're here."

His gaze flicked up to hers. Previously it had been on her hand, which still rested atop of his.

"You are?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to be."

"I am."

A grin grew across her lips, and Frodo felt his temperature rise. Mayline's eyes widened with excitement.

"First one to Honey brook gets the prize."

Frodo stared at her, wondering what the prize could be, but before he could ask Mayline was up. Hurriedly she walked the length of the log away from him, and before he had done the same, she'd disappeared into the trees.

He chased after, catching flashes of her between the trees and shadows, not wanting her far from him. It seemed his nose picked up every smell of the wood, and the flowers in her hair betrayed her trail as their fragrance lingered through the air and caused him to gain on her.

Mayline peered over her shoulder just as Frodo came up quickly from behind. His eyes were set on her, and suddenly his breath was all she could hear despite the leaves and twigs snapping rapidly beneath their feet.

It was no longer a race to Honey brook—but instead a pursuit of predator and prey. Memories flashed in Mayline's mind from years ago, when she and Frodo had been only a young lad and lass in Farmer Maggot's field…

Now, she was the gazelle. Now, she was in his leopard territory.

Mayline swerved and suddenly ran left, but after only a few minutes she realized she was alone. She stopped and worked to catch her breath, knowing that although he was somewhere, had disappeared, Frodo was near.

She turned in circles and searched the shadows, but saw nothing. It wasn't like him to be so stealthful.

With a slight smile Mayline started forward as quietly as she could. A tall tree with a thick trunk lay ahead, and she had just stepped past it when an arm flew out and a hand tightly grasped her wrist.

Letting out a terrified, yet thrilling cry, Mayline jerked her wrist from Frodo's hand and raced off toward the clearing just ahead. Her chest felt like it might explode as she could hear Frodo coming up quickly from behind. But once at the edge of the wood, Mayline suddenly realized the clearing wasn't one at all—but instead a hill with a rapid decline.

She slid to a stop and took in a deep breath before Frodo, unknowing, grabbed her and sent the both of them tumbling down the hill. Mayline and Frodo rolled over and beside one another in the seconds it took them to reach the bottom.

Frodo reached the end of the hill first and came to a stop on his back. He lifted himself part way before Mayline rolled up beside him, on her side and against his. Frodo collapsed back on the ground and at the same, for no reason at all, they broke out in laughter.

Minutes passed as they simply laughed at it all—the past, the present, and very unknown future.

None of it, right then, could touch them.

When their laughter faded, they rolled onto their backs. Both their gazes were set on the high blue sky, and holding hands, they imagined the lives they led in another dimension, the one in which they were indeed futuristic lovers.

**…**

That night Mayline returned to the inn. She knocked before entering their room, but instead of finding Bomar or any of the others, she found a second note in the place of where hers had been.

_Demir arranged a show for us tonight, so expect me in late. I hope this note finds you safe, and that you had a good time alone beneath the Shire sun today._

_- Bomar_

Although her heart went both ways, that day had tipped it more to one side than the other, and she was going to have to choose, soon.

Mayline folded the note and turned, walking to the long mirror beside her bed. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were stained from the grassy hill she and Frodo tumbled down. Whatever she was going to wear that night, she didn't know.

She and Frodo had lay at the bottom of the hill for hours after they had fallen, sometimes talking and sometimes lost in thought and silence. But everything about their time together was wonderful, and for the moment, Mayline was thankful Bomar was occupied.

She could still feel Frodo's hand around hers, although the absence of his finger had left her wondering. As night started to fall and they decided it would be best if they didn't remain alone together, they at least agreed to meet again in the company of others.

"_I want to hear your tale tonight," Mayline said. _

_Frodo smiled. "I'd like to tell it, for the most part." _

_The lanterns of Hobbiton glowed in the distance as they walked along an empty dirt road. _

"_Sam, Merry and Pippin should be there, though. What could they be up to tonight?"_

"_I'm not sure. Although my main concern would be Sam. Last I saw him he was with Rosie, and they may have made plans for the evening. Their reunion seemed to get along quite well." _

_Mayline looked at the road beneath her feet and smiled. Without a doubt she was happy for Sam and Rosie. _

_When at last they reached Hobbiton, Mayline and Frodo went over the plan before going their separate ways. _

"_So I'll see about Sam, Merry and Pippin," Frodo said. _

"_And I'll grab a few things at the market and meet you back at Bag End in an hour," Mayline replied. _

_Frodo nodded and held out his arms. She walked into his embrace and they held onto each other perhaps a little too long. When at last she turned to leave, she could feel Frodo's gaze linger._

Mayline stepped away from the mirror and searched her leather bag. She decided to stay simple and dressed in a blouse and skirt. Her mother's necklace was still around her neck, and forgetting she ought to leave another note, she left the room and then the inn.

**...**

In the market, Frodo passed easily through a small crowd on his way to the Cotton's hole. After finding Pippin and Merry enjoying themselves at firework booth (which was just as new to them as it was to him), they agreed to his proposal, and he then set out again. Frodo assumed the guess was as good as any that Sam might still be at Rosie's, and he was thankful her hole was right on the way back to Bag End.

If worse came to worse and Sam wasn't there, he figured the rest of them would carry on with the night anyway, and that Sam wouldn't be too disgruntled, considering who kept him away.

After leaving the market Frodo passed into a quieter street of Hobbiton. The lanterns were lit around all the doors, and a little ways ahead of him, a door to a pub opened. A hobbit around his age and height stepped out, immediately taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

He appeared damp as though he had just done quite a bit of dancing, or perhaps, was part of the entertainment that kept all the drunken dancers going.

Frodo continued along although his pace slowed. The closer he got to the hobbit, the more furrowed his brow became. Perhaps brown wavy hair wasn't so uncommon, nor was a blue gaze—but with each step Frodo realized just how identical the stranger was to him.

When he was no more than ten feet away, Frodo stopped in his tracks when the hobbit suddenly took notice of him. They stood in silence as the hobbit stared, obviously struck by the same realization Frodo had had and equally motionless.

It seemed to both that someone had cast some kind of trickery upon them, and with the exception of what they were wearing, either could believe he was peering into a mirror.

At long last, Frodo could take no more of the silent, awkward shock.

"Good evening," he said, shortly.

The other hobbit blinked. "Hello."

Footsteps neared them just then, but neither noticed.

"Forgive me for staring," the hobbit blurted suddenly. "We just look…"

Frodo nodded. "…Perfectly alike."

"Frodo?"

The twins turned and their eyes fell on Mayline. Although she had only walked from the inn to where she was now, her breath had suddenly disappeared as she saw them standing together and her heart was pounding.

Two separate worlds seemed at last to become one.

"Do you two know each other?" she said, somewhat fearful.

A quick silence before:

"Do you know him?"

The question was returned to her at the same time from both of them.

Mayline swallowed. Her eyes fell on Frodo's. He stared back at her, his gaze so curious and searching. She knew he could tell something was about to happen—he just didn't have a clue what.

"Frodo, this is him at last. Meet my fiancé, Bomar."

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, forgive me for the late posting and cliff-hanger! :D<strong> **Also, if any part of this chapter was strange, blame it on Katy Perry's song Futuristic Lover, hence the title above. I listened to it the entire time I wrote the first part. Anyhow, reviews are much loved! Please lemme know what you think of this, and especially who Mayline should end up with... truthfully I could go either way, but her final choice needs to and is coming soon. I do feel inclined (at least in part) to please you all.** **:)**


End file.
